


Hockey Sticks (And Balls Of Steel)

by crocs



Category: Class (TV 2016), St Trinian's (2007 2009)
Genre: Crack Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-24
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-10-15 14:49:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17530754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crocs/pseuds/crocs
Summary: Quill had stumbled upon St Trinian's the way that most potential teachers did — driving Flash Harry back to the school out of pity after a night on the lash.





	Hockey Sticks (And Balls Of Steel)

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
> 
> Was cleaning out my WIPs folder when I found this and thought it was too good (read: totally crackish) not to share. Enjoy!

Quill had stumbled upon St Trinian's the way that most potential teachers did — driving Flash Harry back to the school out of pity after a night on the lash.

It had all started on a stuffy day in July. The air pressure was low and Quill's patience was much, much lower. Mme. Raleigh, one of the few colleagues that Quill tolerated, had entered the teacher's lounge crying that morning, and Quill, being the only other one in said room, was expected by human societal norms to console her. It had been quite awkward, especially when Raleigh had left to find some tissues and came back to see that she had left her be.

After that, the day had only worsened. Year Eight, she understood, was a challenging year — with the hormones and the obsession with social media — but her Physics class just before lunch was downright aggravating. While she welcomed questions that weren't inherently stupid (which were few and far between on this planet) Quill did have a limit.

The children had somehow gained the mindset over the weekend that the Earth was flat. No matter how hard Quill threatened to make them see reason, they kept on coming up with half-baked theories and arguments that, if she were a less controlled Quill, she would have torn her hair out over.

She had found it in herself to admire their persistence, but then again, persistence wasn't always a good thing.

As the Prince had found out later.

After lunch, his Lordship had begun sending her messages on the infernal glass rectangle that she much preferred using to search for cat videos. Cats were interesting, regal, poised and hid a kind of ferocity that Quill identified with intensely. They were also very funny animals.

What was not funny was Charlie sending her a text saying that despite his incessant babbling and badgering about a local film festival, he had decided not to go.

Quill herself had planned a Girl's Night Out — even though the only one in her so-called Girl Gang was herself — involving catching up on Grey's Anatomy and starting a hobby. Maybe knitting. Or wine tasting. 

Oh, definitely wine tasting, now that she thought about it.

So when the Rhodian had sent her that message, Quill had moved from exasperated to fully pissed off. After a terrible day, Quill favoured the British way of coping. She went for a pint at the local pub.

Not exactly a regular but not a stranger either, Quill sat down in front of the bar and ordered her usual. She sat in silence as the bartender, name tag reading Mick, fished a grimy glass out from under the bar and poured her a pint.

Mick was a part-time accountant, looking for a change of pace. Of course, he had never explicitly told her this, but Quill was always listening. It did not pay on Rhodia to have distracted ears. She knew most everything about the pub's regular patrons just from listening in. The girl with her head in her hands down the bar had a plumbing problem. Lauren, the other bartender, was currently expecting thanks to a man that was not her current husband. Phyllis and Marjorie, the two old ladies holed up in the corner playing cards? Their other friend, Beatrice, had dropped out of Weight Watchers. Shocker.

The man next to her was most definitely not a regular.

His shoulder length black hair stuck up like an overgrown toilet brush. It was stuffed under a velvet black fedora that tipped to hide his face so much that Quill feared it would fall off. Also notable was his leather vest; the man wore a leopard print shirt underneath it that was crumpled and slightly sheer. 

He turned towards her.

" _Orrright_?" he slurred.

"Charming," said Quill, then realised that he was expecting an answer. "Just fine, thank you. And you?"

The man grinned. "I'm _jussss_ great. Year Eights made some really potent gin. Tryn'a drink it off befo' my class later." He extended a hand. "They call me Flash Harry."

So he was a teacher too. "Andrea Quill," she introduced herself, shaking his hand. "I wish my Year Eights were that interested in distillery. All they do is drive me mad."

"I get that," said Flash Harry solemnly. "Once my students stole a priceless painting. Took ages to get over that one."

"Where do you teach, again?" 

Harry's answer was cut off by Lauren hovering threateningly over the bar. "Flash Harry," she greeted coldly. 

He slapped the table in recognition and snapped his fingers. "Lorna!" 

Lauren flushed. "Oh course you don't remember me," she muttered, before crossing her arms. "It's Lauren," she reminded him, "and as far as I can remember, you're banned for life from this pub."

"Since when?" he asked, affronted. 

"Since you set up two eleven year olds with a lemonade stand offering lager outside of the pub."

Flash Harry rolled his eyes. "But that was ages ago, Lor - Lauren."

Lauren pointed to the door. "Out."

The man groaned, downed Quill's drink, slapped down a fiver and stood up.

"Wait," piped up Marjorie. "You're not going to drive there, are you?" 

Phyllis popped in her teeth and nodded. "You're positively sloshed. I would drive you, but my license's been revoked."

"Old age?"

Phyllis grinned at Quill's question. " _Dogging_."

Quill made a face. She turned to Flash Harry, who was swaying trying to stand up. "I'll drive you," she said.

After all, her night plans _had_ been cancelled.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
